


mais tellement beaux

by blanchtt



Series: 500X LEDA [14]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 20:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11112573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blanchtt/pseuds/blanchtt
Summary: They follow a lead out to some Podunk town and spend half the day there. By the time business is wrapped up, her stomach is growling and they’ve got something like over an hour’s drive back in rush-hour traffic that she’s not looking forward to.





	mais tellement beaux

**Author's Note:**

> Rare-pair minific prompt: Beth/Krystal, black coffee.
> 
> Thanks to EJWrites for a push in the right direction on this one.

 

 

 

They follow a lead out to some Podunk town and spend half the day there. By the time business is wrapped up, Beth's stomach is growling and they’ve got something like over an hour’s drive back in rush-hour traffic that she’s not looking forward to.

 

“Hungry?” she asks pointedly as they get in the cruiser, nabbing the passenger seat, and Art rolls his eyes as he walks around, flops down into the driver’s seat with resignation.

 

“No, but if you drive back, we can stop somewhere,” he barters, starting the car.

 

It’s a tough deal, but she takes it. There’s no way she’s going to make it back to Toronto on cold coffee and whatever mints Art’s got stashed away in the dashboard.

 

They stop at the first dinner they find advertised, some mom-and-pop place with a bell that jingles loudly as they push open the front door, announcing them to everyone inside. Luckily, that only ends up being to about three people in the dinner and one waitress currently taking someone’s order, who looks up at them and motions with one hand in a way that asks for _just a minute, please._

 

Art turns, nods at a booth, an executive decision, and Beth follows, sitting opposite him and grabbing a menu off the table and cracking it open. It’s all decent-looking, but she can’t decide, unlike Art who takes one look and slaps the menu back down, already decided.

 

“God, Art. Expand your horizons,” she jokes, and Art makes a disgruntled noise in his throat.

 

“Never.”

 

And so she’s still in the midst of reading the specials when the waitress waltzes over with the click of heels and the sound of pen on a pad of paper. “Hey, there. What can I get you two?”

 

She’s not really one for poetics and romantic crap. But Beth looks up, actually _takes a look_ at her, and wonders how the hell someone so beautiful is working in a place like this. Their waitress - Krystal, she reads off of her name-tag - looks like she should be working in a nightclub.

 

Art, fucking _oblivious_ because half-way divorced dads make shitty wingmen, answers, “Number three, please. Extra bacon.”

 

“Breakfast for dinner. Great choice," Krystal comments energetically, writing it all down. Art hands her his menu, and Krystal takes it, needs a moment to tuck it under her arm before turning to her with a smile, pen poised and ready to take her order.

 

Beth can’t help it. She _can’t_.

 

Beth clasps her hands on the table in thought, leans forward, and looks up at her with a smile. “So, Krystal,” she starts. “I’m having a hard time deciding. What do you suggest?”

 

The girl is _quick_ , because there’s not one moment’s hesitation. “Depends what you’re in the mood for,” Krystal says, with a broad smile that tells them all she knows _exactly_ how that sounds.

 

Fuck, yes.

 

Beth nods, turns away, picks up the menu and hands it to Krystal. “Hm. Surprise me?”

 

She gets a wink and a _you're-the-boss_ from Krystal as she jots something down, barely has time to revel in that because Krystal takes the menu she’s holding out other, saunters away, and Beth wishes she hadn't given it away as Art calls out after her obnoxiously, “And coffee!”

 

She settles for pelting him with a packet of jam, the only thing left at the table that isn't napkins.

 

 

-

 

 

When they’ve finished eating she coughs up her share of the cash, peels off some extra bills and slaps them down for what’s become quite a generous tip, and is surprised as she stands to find Krystal at their table again, dropping off a drink carrier.

 

“On the house,” Krystal says with a pleasant smile. Krystal holds the carrier out in her direction, and Beth smirks, takes it, watches as Krystal holds up a free hand as if to shield what she’s mouthing from Art – _call me!_

 

As they leave and settle into the cruiser, taking the driver’s seat, Beth picks up a coffee cup, the one closest to her, and finds a number written on the protective paper sleeve, followed by Krystal’s name in very elaborate cursive. She slips the sleeve off off, tucks it in her jacket pocket for safekeeping, and puts the too-hot coffee in the cup-holder to cool down.

 

“I thought that was some made-up shit that only happened to teenagers at Starbucks,” Art says incredulously, watching with an eyebrow raised, and she turns to him, gives him her most winning smile.

 

“Guess I’m just special.”

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
